


Blue

by thecadaver



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Soft widojest times, Someone please give jester a hug, gifts and pining, i dont remember how dialogue works, post episode 77, will probably become entirely noncanon next episode but i have needs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 15:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20623421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecadaver/pseuds/thecadaver
Summary: Yasha is missing, the Nein feel like they're falling apart, and Jester can't fix it any more.





	Blue

  
It had been a few days since the Nein had left Nicodranas and entered the Empire. There was an odd sense of haste amongst the group, both wanting and not wanting to get to Zadash, to see the carnage left by their former party member. Plans for happy family visits had been waylaid by the sober mood borne to them by the divine powers of a normally cheery cleric brought to tears.

  
Jester had tried her best, but this news just reopened a wound in the others that no amount of Traveller given power could fix, and no amount of bright and cheery jokes could soothe. She sat on the gently bumping cart with her knees to her chest, blankly staring into the distance as her friends occupied themselves with the own distractions on the long journey.

  
Her eyes came to settle on Caleb, sitting across from her on the cart, head buried in a book while Frumpkin lay curled around his neck. The cat looked up at her, stretching its paws in her direction as if making tiny air biscuits.

  
“Jester?” Caleb had felt his familiar shift against him as it greeted his unusually quiet tiefling friend, and looked up to find her staring sadly at them both. “Would you like to hold Frumpkin for a while? He is getting very heavy, sitting on my back for so long.”

  
Jester shook herself out of her sad haze, applying a bright smile so quickly that Caleb could easily have thought she never wore anything else, holding out her arms for the cat.

  
“Please Caleb, I’ll take good care of him I promise!”

  
Without a word from his owner, Frumpkin jumped from Caleb’s shoulders and into Jester's lap, purring and rubbing his head against her.

  
“Look at that,” Caleb smiled. “I think he likes you _fräulein_ Lavorre.”

  
Jester giggled, scratching the cats ears and pressing her face into its soft fur.

  
“Of course he does Cay-leb. He knows I’m super strong and could hold him for ages.”

  
“I imagine he does, he is a smart cat.” Caleb rested the book in his lap. “Although I imagine the weasel in your cloak probably has caught his attention as well.”

  
“Oh,” Jester raised her hands to her hood, where the weasel slept. “Frumpkin won't hurt Sprinkle will he?”

  
“No, Frumpkin is a very good cat, he would never do anything like that Jester.”

  
“Okay!” brightening again, Jester returned her attention to the purring cat in her lap.

  
Casting his eyes around the cart, Caleb found the rest of his friends totally unaware of the conversation taking place between the two of them. Caduceus sat at the reins, chatting to the horses in his deep, calming monotone with Nott sat asleep upright beside him. Behind them, Beauregard and Fjord walked a short distance behind the cart, snippets of talk and arm motions suggesting a lesson on fighting technique from the monk. Caleb looked back at his seemingly cheery blue friend and wondered who among them would be the first to crack her bright and bubbly exterior, or if they would all have to simply wait until it shattered. He sighed and returned to his book.

  
“Caleb?”

  
Caleb looked up at Jester with a start.

  
“Yes?”

  
“Is it okay if I look after Frumpkin for a little while?”

  
“Of course,” Caleb watched the cat wind and brush its way around her limbs. “We still have many hours to go before we reach town. I think he was getting bored of watching me read about spells anyway.”

  
Jester smiled up at Caleb, picking up Frumpkin to bury her face in his fur once more.

  
\--------

  
The inn had been quiet when they arrived, and their party of six did nothing to raise the spirits. They paid for rooms, ordered food and drink and went over the next days plans for travel with the same sombre mood that has pervaded the rest of their travel.

  
Slowly they made their excuses to leave the table, unable to find the energy to continue any sort of upbeat facade. About to leave for his room for the night, Caleb caught sight of Beau whispering something to Jester before dashing off after one of the local women, Jester sitting back down at the table head in hands. He stopped in his tracks before returning to the bar and asking for two glasses of milk from the inn keeper, awkwardly approaching Jester with them in hand. Seeing him approach, Jester once again perked up, plastering a gentle smile on her face as though she had merely been caught in a daydream.

  
“Are those for _me_ Caleb?” she teased.

  
“Well one is certainly for you,” he said, placing the drink in front of her. “But I am not much of a fan of milk, so you could have the other one if you like. Especially after taking such good care of my cat.”

  
“But it's so nice though! Maybe Frumpkin could have the other glass”

  
“Do you want to know a secret?” Caleb sat beside her and leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t think he likes it very much.”

  
“But all cats like milk!”

  
Jester furrowed her brow in outrage, and Caleb had to suppress a smile.

  
“I thought so too Jester. But Frumpkin is a special cat, so perhaps he is different from all the others.”

  
“Well he is the Fey King,” Jester studied the cat sleeping on the table. “Maybe only drinks special milk made for fey kings.”

  
“Fey milk?” Caleb asked with a smile.

  
“Yes! Fey milk from fey cows! I bet they have fey cows in the feywild. It's meant to be just like here, isn’t it? That's what it always said in the books my mama used to read to me, it was like here but more magical, and with fairies and mermaids everywhere.”

  
“And fey cows?”

  
“Probably,” Jester said knowingly, sipping her milk.

  
“I have seen many cows, Jester. I would not call them magical.”

  
“Where did you see so many cows Caleb,” Jester cocked her head as she looked at him quizzically. “Was it where you grew up? You said it was a farm.”

  
“Ja,” Caleb averted his gaze. “Blumenthal is mostly a small farming town, much like Felderwin, where Nott and her family were from. Cattle there are often not much more than vaguely sentient scenery.”

  
“Well I think it sounds nice Caleb, I bet they’re _great_ cows.”

  
Jester caught Caleb’s eye and beamed a smile at him, and he averted his eyes once more.

  
“It was nice. It has been a very long time since I have seen it. Although it seems we may end up there soon,” Caleb looked back up at Jester. “Maybe then you can tell me if they are good cows, ja?”

  
“Okay,” Jester giggled. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for all the other cows so I know what to compare them to!”

  
“I suppose there are not many cows inside Nicodranas for you to have seen before?”

  
Jester shook her head, licking some milk off her lips.

  
“I’d really only seen the ones in books before I met up with you guys...” she paused, before laughing. “except Blud!”

  
Caleb chuckled despite himself, enjoying the moment of lightness in what had been many dark days of late.

  
“But don't tell him I said that, okay?” Jester suddenly looked very serious. “He’s not anything like a cow, he's so smart and nice and he looks after my mama and makes sure she’s safe and-"

  
Caleb felt his heart soften at his friend's concern.

  
“Jester, don’t worry. I know you would never think such a mean thing about a friend,” Caleb paused for a moment before continuing on. “I wish we could have stayed with him and your mother a bit longer. I know you miss them.”

  
Jester sighed and rested her chin in her hands again.

  
“It's okay Caleb,” she said sadly. “I probably wouldn’t have had a very good time if we had stayed.”

  
“No... I think that none of us would have felt right having fun knowing what we would be finding in Zadash,” Caleb frowned, the lightness gone. “I think you are right on that one.”

  
Jester went quiet, staring down at the table and her unfinished milk, and two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before her voice broke the air, sad and fragile in a way Caleb had never heard before.

  
“I wish I had never tried to scry on her.”

  
The immense weight of what Jester had kept contained for days was beginning to tumble out, and Caleb could see her eyes beginning to brim with tears.

  
“Jester, that... I...” Caleb stuttered, taking a deep breath before trying again. “That must have been quite hard for you. These sort of... terrible things... they... they stick in the mind, ja?”

  
“Oh Caleb, it was awful! Yasha looked so _sad._ Like she had to watch it all happening too, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it either! It was all like some kind of horrible dream but it's not, the Traveller wouldn’t do that, he wouldn't lie to me! It's all real.”

  
Tears began to slowly roll down her cheeks, and Caleb felt as though his arms were almost tugged towards her, to hold and comfort her, and fought the instinct down, crossing his arms over his own chest instead.

Desperately searching for the right thing to say, Caleb was struck by a thought.  
Remembering the collection of inks in his bag he had purchased long ago, before the scry, before the mission, before even his first encounter with the scourger, Caleb scrambled to retrieve the case before Jester was became completely lost in her tears.

  
“I got a gift for... I got you something, for your journal. I know you like sharing your drawings with the traveller so I thought I might... I though you might like something to make them extra special..." Caleb trailed off, anxiously running his fingers over the small wooden box he had set on the table.  
“It is, uh... not as special as those magical paints you have. You cannot use it to make tiny statues of dicks, but I found a bookstore in Rosohna where the shop keeper told me about these special inks they made for important books.”

  
Jester looked up at him, sniffling and trying to wipe away her tears.

  
Caleb reached into his bag again, remembering the matching book, and pulled out a heavy tome wrapped in dark leather. Opening to a bookmarked page he turned it to show her the full page.

  
“It's so beautiful Caleb!” Jester whispered, running her fingers over the page as the last of her tears, now largely forgotten, shone wet on her cheeks.

  
The illuminated title page glittered in the dying sunlight, the beautiful inks shifting colour as the book moved slightly in Caleb's unsteady hands as he watched Jester's face light up with joy.

  
“It is... quite beautiful indeed,” he cleared his throat, now staring down at the table. “I was hoping that maybe they would have some magical properties that I could use for my spells, but it seems as though their appearance does not involve any use of the arcane.”

  
Caleb looked up again, watching Jester trace the swirls of inkwork with her fingers.

  
“You can borrow it if you like... the book. I have already finished it, everything is already tucked away, up here,” he said, tapping his fingers against his temples with a wink. “Although it is probably less... romantic than you usually like. It is a book about the Luxon.”

  
Jester laughed, smiling across the table at him. “I bet even the Luxon needs a little lovin' every now and then, am I right?”

  
She wiggled her brows at Caleb and he felt a smile come across his face despite himself.

  
“Thank you Caleb. You didn’t have to do that, giving me a book to read AND a present! And you let me have Frumpkin all day!”

  
“Yes, well. You were so kind to me the other day, helping me with... after what happened in the jail. And going shopping and helping me with spells. It is the very least I could do... You are always very kind, Jester.” He ran his fingers over the edge of the box again, as if trying to smooth out a wrinkle that couldn’t possibly be there, before pushing it towards her and standing up. “Anyway, I should be going to bed, I have some reading to do and we have had a long day.”

  
“Caleb wait,” Caleb turned to see the little tiefling still engrossed in the book, turning it this way and that to catch the last of the light, her head cocked to one side, dark blue curls falling across her cheek. “What do they use to make it so pretty?”

  
“The shopkeeper said that Xhorhas is home to quite a few things in nature that I would not find in the Empire, and that their recipe for such pigments was a secret. I got the sense at first that he would prefer not to sell them to me at all.”

  
“I bet he couldn’t say no to you though!” Jester beamed. “I bet you were super smooth, bet you charmed him real good!”

  
Caleb chuckled.

  
“I guess so... He did let me buy all the best colours. Goodnight Jester.”

  
“Night Caleb!”

  
Jester watched Caleb pull his coat tight around him as he quickly made his way up the stairs to their rooms before putting down the book and pulling the small wooden box towards her. Opening the latch and lifting the lid, she gasped at the sight of two rows full of tiny, beautiful vials of ink.

  
A bright, vibrant lollipop pink, the deepest crystalline amethyst purple, an endlessly glittering gold, a green like the shifting light through the canopy of a forest, a red every bit as rich and beautiful as her mother's skin, a pearly silver just like the inside of the shells that would wash ashore on the beach outside her home... and bottles and bottles of every imaginable shade of blue.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything but non-fiction in about a decade (big surprise I'm sure), so please forgive my complete inability to properly format dialogue and make words good but Liam's soft little sad pining faces broke me and I love one (1) little blue tiefling too much not to write this.


End file.
